[M] War and Peace ~ Breggo and Hannelorian [IC]

[Breggo13]

BOOK TWO - THROUGH BLOOD AND FIRE

Liam’s first instinct was to reach Saskia and the realization of how quickly his priorities changed was the only thing that made him hesitate for an instant, his reflexes honed by years on the battlefields and enhanced by his bond with Barra forcing him to raise his forearm infront on his eyes, the debris of glass snagging the fabric. As his hand dropped, the world could see not just a nobleman but a general, the icy eyes glowing with fire and power even as he scanned the surroundings, the men of Alistair’s flight rising quickly from their seats, pulling those around them to their feet. Beside him, he felt Radisson move forward, stopping the second he saw George being led forward by his father’s steady embrace, Maurice coughing but following the pair. The dragon knights that had been invited, the few dressed in their armour for the ceremony were congregating around the emperor, their swords raised and eyes scanning for the threat that they couldn’t see.

“Your majesty?” Liam’s eyes snapped to Alistair who seemed dazed, a thick cut bleeding on his forehead. He was awake but unresponding, struggling to focus, his eyelashes blinking away drops of blood and his expression pale. Cursing, the Earl’s gaze turned to the Flammor. “The catacombs?”

“Those leading to the old fortris?” the man looked pale and frightened. “We haven’t been there in years. I cannot guarantee--”

“Darius!” Liam’s sharp command cut the priest off, catching sight of the youngest warrior. “Marcus was constantly in the ancient catacombs and spaces - would he know?”

“I--Yes,” Darius swallowed, snapping out of it, his eyes gaining focus. “He said they were mostly passable.”

“You and Emeric, take Alistair and go. Westley, go with the empress,” the general didn’t pause as his mind hit overdrive. There was only one target and that was the royal couple. They had to leave as soon as possible and while the old infrastructure that stretched like a labyrinth under the whole capital with no indication of how exactly it was holding up, that was their best change to get away. Were the dragons allowed into the city, were they closer, perhaps Liam would have risked but there were so many people and so many miles. Barra! he called mentally, yanking at the subtle connection between him and the silver dragon, scowling in pain as he got the usual rebound from the bond. “Call your dragons, all of you! Darius, when you can, reach for Aellorex! Now go!”

“My son!” Beatrix tried to rush the opposite way but Liam caught her, stopping her from running.

“You have to go now,” his voice was cold, steady amidst the screams of women and swearing of men. “We will find him and Alexander but I cannot spare men to watch over you as you thunder towards danger. I need you to trust me.”

Seeing the woman’s hesitation, Liam whipped around, catching Saskia’s eye and practically shoving her lady in waiting into the empress’ hands. Any other time, he would have been gentler, any other time, he would have understood but right now, he couldn’t afford to spread out his men seeing that there was barely a dozen of them and Alistair was obviously injured. If that meant making tough decision, if that means choosing the empire over the life of two little boys, he would be that monster. “Saskia, take her and go. Now.”

There was no time to see how the women responded and frankly, Liam didn’t need to. Julius moved past him, his hand briefly squeezing Liam’s shoulder as he took over Beatrix, Westley helping the rest of the ladies. The men were once again all working as a unit, each one responding to the threat that mere moments away, doing what they were asked without an extra word, without any complaints, without questioning their leader. He wasn’t sure who of the dragon knights handed him a sword, the four prepared men standing shoulder to shoulder at the forefront of the dias as nobles streamed past them. From the front of the building, the distinguished sound of steel clashing and screams, the mass of guests rushing forward like wild animals.

“Liam!” Rois’ voice caught his attention, his sister’s ashen face caught in the crowd, her husband leaning heavily on her arm. Rois yelped as some people pushed past, shoving the pair into a pillar. Cursing, the blonde moved, elbowing his way through to the young woman, sliding the man’s arm over his shoulder.

“Move!” Liam snapped as his sister, hauling his brother in law towards the dias just as the screams and push of terrified people intensified. “Run Rois!” The young woman raised her skirts, running forward towards Westley’s outstretched hand, the blonde having followed after Liam the second the general disappeared into the array. As the younger knight pulled up the lady, blocking her from the mass of people with his body, his blue eyes met his comrades but for once, there was no amusement, only horror. “What?”

“Quinn was here and Marcus disappeared earlier in the ceremony,” Westley managed, reaching for Count Flores who coughed, blood coming from his mouth. “I haven’t seen them.”

“They’ll be fine,” Liam growled, following up onto the dias and moving with Westley to assist the ailing man towards the entrance to the catacombs where Radisson was currently standing, directing people with his usual quiet confidence. “We have to go. Take him and go Westley.”

Liam’s eyes scanned the situation, the young general evaluating everything at the speed of light, his mind making note of each detail. The Emperor's slumped form as Emeric tried to keep him on his feet made him scowl. The bleeding had slowed, but the dazed look in his eyes told Liam that the Emperor wasn’t fully present—at least not yet. Time. They needed time.

The sound of the fighting was coming closer, the dragon knights starting to get anxious as they tried to see who exactly was the attacker but with the mass of men and women streaming towards the safety of the catacombs, the scared expressions and the splatters of blood and dirt from the debrie, the beautiful outfits of the day ruined. From the darkness, smoke was starting to rise, the distinctive smell of burning oil and cloth starting to fill the space. The air tasted like ash, thick with dust and the tang of blood. The heat of bodies pressing forward only added to the disorientation, and Liam’s head pounded as he fought to make sense of the chaos.

As his fingers clenched tighter against the weapon in his hand, Liam’s eyes narrowed. Marcus had gone to Quinn, he was certain and knowing where the servants were allowed to stand - he clenched his jaw. There was no time to process this—not now. He shoved the worry away, pushing Saskia’s safety to the forefront of his mind. Darius had taken the lead, Emeric right behind him with Alistair, the healer softly guiding his friend forward. All Liam could hope for was that Saskia had followed with Beatrix and the rest of the ladies, the mass of nobles acting as a body shield. There wasn’t time for doubt. No room for hesitation. The empire needed him to make decisions without second-guessing, and damn the consequences. If he let himself think—really think—he’d freeze. And freezing now meant death.

“Carina,” the name popped into his mind and sent a cold shiver down his back. Whipping around, Liam saw the woman’s pale face and large eyes, her expression showing shock. He’d never seen Carina like this. The woman who could reduce a man to nothing with a look, who had stood like a statue during the ceremony—now, she was a shadow of that person. It sent a jolt of unease through him, even more unsettling than the chaos around them. Carina was never scared. If she was shaken, then this threat was far worse than even he had imagined. “Samuel, take the dowager!”

“But sir, I have armour,” the brunet tried to protest but Liam snarled in his direction.

“I can’t bloody hell make a call I can’t see! Shut up and move soldier!”

Through their bond, Liam could feel Barra’s agitation—his dragon was pacing restlessly in the outskirts of the city, sensing the chaos even from afar. He could almost feel the dragon’s breath in his own lungs, the fire stirring within them both. Soon, Barra, he thought, pushing calm through their connection. Not yet, but soon. If they were going under the city, he would need the dragon’s support at the point they reemerged. Allowing the silver’s emotions and instinct to take over would mean the city would burn, innocents destroyed and the image they were trying to push away from Alistair forever cemented in the history. It wouldn’t matter whose dragon it was - it only took one.

To his left, he felt a shadow of a warrior appear, the energy so different that he turned to meet prince Theobald’s steady gaze. There were no words needed - the elf’s set expression and the sword he carried in his hands spoke all that was needed. If they were to die today to protect their empress, then the attackers were the fools for they would have to go through both men. Nodding in recognition, Liam prepared for the fight.

“The rebels, they’re in the cathedral,” Marcus’ voice seemed to echo around him, the rogue appearing out of the blue, face covered in blood and two young boys over his shoulders, the young maid on his heels. “There’s no one else to save.”

“Collapse the entrance?” Liam asked as his friend shifted one of the children up on his shoulder. “Will that stop them?”

“It will buy us time,” the rogue shrugged. “There’s too many for us to do anything else.”

“Whatever you decide, it has to be now,” the Lysian accent was thicker than before as the prince joined their conversation. Marcus scoffed before his blazing gaze turned to the foreigner.

“I’m out of daggers,” the way he said it sounded as casual as if he was commenting on the color of the sky. “I am of no use here.”

“You know the tunnels Vale?” silently, Liam agreed with the royal - whatever they did, they had to do it now. At Marcus’ wolfish grin, he turned to Theobald. “Go, he will show you the weak spot to collapse the tunnel. We’ll hold them off till your ready but be ready to run.”

“May Galadh watch over you,” Theobald nodded, following Marcus, Quinn pale and silent as she made her way to the entrance, clasping her side as her fingers were slowly coated in red. Blood, Liam thought, his throat tightening. Barra’s fear bled into his mind, a sharp pulse of heat that made Liam’s heart race. The dragon wanted to fight, wanted to burn everything in its path. Liam clenched his jaw, pushing the wave of anger back down, forcing Barra to stay calm. Not yet. Not now. Stay with me. Before him, he saw the rebels push their way, the haze of the smoke reducing them to shapes.

“To your left!” came a cry and the sound of blades rang out closer, deadlier. That forced Liam back into the present - now was not the time to wonder how this came to be, to wonder what was the reason for the rebels. He couldn’t guess if they had succeeded or not. Until his last breath, he had to fight for the empire.

“Hold rank! We have to give Marcus and the prince time!” With that order, Liam stepped forward, his sword connecting with the first of his attackers, icy gaze focused on the threat ahead.

[Hannelorian]

It took Saskia mere seconds to regain her composure and rise from her throne, and without a moment's hesitation she took to Alistair's side, noting the significant bleeding from his forehead. The Empress immediately tearing away from the hem of her dress and moving through the searing pain of the glass in her shoulder pressed the scraps of fabric to Alistair's forehead, attempting to stem the bleeding before Emeric could attend to him. There was no time to worry about how they gotten here. The only way out of this situation was through it.

The familiar dulcet tones of Beatrix were gone and it was at a fever pitch she screamed out in fear for her child. Saskia immediately turned and looked to catch a glimpse of Liam who was fully immersed in his role as a General for the Empire. She needn't bestow the right upon him, he did exactly as she would have hoped. Beatrix was thrust in her direction and Saskia opened her arms as if to catch the woman and hugging her closely. "He's going to be alright my darling." Saskia spoke softly and reassuringly as the command was issued for Saskia to depart with the others.

Emeric at this moment had appeared and Westley had taken up his position as ordered. Beatrix was in a stunned state of shock and in no mental state to put up a fight, she simply melted into the Empress' arms. Saskia watched as Emeric assisted in getting the Emperor moving, his safety was her first and only priority. Taking Beatrix with her, she followed behind her husband toward the catacomb entrance.

"Majesty, you're hurt." Emeric called behind him to Saskia who shook her head. "I'm fine. He is your priority, worry about me when Alistair is attended to." Saskia's words were firm and authoritative, commanding. She had ever intention of doing exactly what Liam had ordered her to do. Liam... Saskia was indeed worried for him, as he led the charge to defend the escaping nobility, defending her. Silently the Empress let a pray fly out for his safety. "Don't take him from me now." she thought for a brief moment before returning to the journey ahead.

Some distance behind her Crysos had leapt from his seat, knowing full well that Theobald was going to do his part to protect their sister and the innocents at court. Crysos would do his part as he rushed toward the Knight who was attending to the Dowager Empress. "I've got her." Crysos said nodding to the knight he as he used his own body as a prop, letting her lean upon him as he ushered her in the direction of the escape. "If you don't mind, Majesty, I'll apologize for touching you later." Crysos let loose a signature flash of a smile, it was clear that ran in the family.

The air immediately shifted as they descended into the depths of the catacombs. It was cool below, but the air was damp and acrid, a kind of stale and the darkness was overpowering. There were a handful of lit torches by the entrance which Saskia grabbed one, the fleeing nobles had ran into the darkness and the sounds of hushed and frightened whispers were everywhere.

"Westley, light the torches." Saskia nodded to the remaining one, and as she moved a hand along the wall finding the next torch she lit it with the one she had, while holding Beatrix in the other. Westley moved without hesitation and followed the order issued by his Empress, though his mind was racing and worrying over his sister. With a little more light now in the initial chambers Saskia moved ahead. "Take the Duchess." Saskia asked of Westley who obliged freeing Saskia to move a bit faster.

"CALM DOWN." The Empress raised her voice and within the ancient chambers it carried and echoed and a great silence save from the sound leaking down from above carried downward. "I know, everyone is scared. But we must remain calm." Saskia smiled softly as she spoke. "We are going to get through this, and we are going to work together. Move quickly, help the person next to you. And let's stay as quiet as we can, no need to draw any extra attention." The assorted nobility who could hear her nodded and all seemed to take a breath. "The Flight are doing everything they can to defend us, which means we must do our part too. Keep calm and we'll all get through this... together." Saskia with torch in hand, covered in dust, soot and her own blood moved forward.

The screams and the panic seemed to have died down and only low conversation continued as the group moved swiftly, lighting the torches stationed on the wall as they went. Emeric was supporting the Emperor who still remained out of sorts, but he was alive and stable. Saskia thanked every God she could think of for that. The walls too were damp and moisture lined, looking slick. Each of the ancient doors along the hallways had a long dead body, or bones more likely behind them.

"Are you always this calm in the face of hell?" A voice called to her. Saskia turning to look as she stopped to wait for Emeric, moving to assist him in guiding her husband. The voice was that of Julius. Saskia looked at him seriously for a moment, she had never really looked at him. He was youthful, handsome. In some ways he reminded her of her own extended relations. Julius positioned himself to take over for Saskia.

"No, he is my husband, I can do this." Saskia said softly as she turned briefly to Emeric who gave her a warmer smile, the group moving as fast they could. "And am I always this calm?" Saskia sighed, she would laugh if the situation wasn't quite so dire. "Bring on a few more assassination attempts and I'll let you know." Saskia spit out the rather witty response which elicited something of a chuckle from Julius. She was tough, Julius appreciated that much.

"Someone said something about an old fortress." Saskia mentioned, having heard something like that when this all began. "I don't suppose it's the Fortress of Saint Katherine?" Saskia asked. Long ago she had read about this. These catacombs were notoriously unstable hence fell into disuse. "That is exactly what it is." Carina chimed in having calmed ever so slightly and now walking alongside Crysos, rather than being dragged by him. The Dowager too possessed an incredible degree of knowledge, perhaps knowing Valadis and the Imperial complexes better than anyone. "It is where my husband, my son and every Emperor of Valadis are interred." The group was moving as quickly as possible and the catacombs seemed to never end.

"Thank you, mother... so we need to move Easterly." Saskia added as the group came to the first of many junctions in the labyrinth. East would take them in the direction where they needed to exit. "Let's just hope our enemies don't know that." There were no properly written records or maps of this system outside of those in the Imperial Archives, and even then it was likely they were out of date, there was sort of an appeal in keeping this a secret of the Imperial family.

"Lord Rhydderch, he will be alright, won't he?" Saskia asked as they moved, picking up the pace as much as they could with Alistair between her and Emeric. A question which undoubtedly brought a smirk to Carina's face, no matter how slight. "He's one of the best, Majesty." Julius chimed in, attempting to reassure the Empress. It was admittedly rather odd for Saskia to hear herself referred to as Majesty now, and would be Imperial Majesty on more formal occasions.

The Empresses' heart was racing. Quinn... oh Gods, where was Quinn? Marcus must have her. George would be the Greville's. Yes, that must be it they would be alright. They would be fine. Saskia reassured herself as best as she could. How many people that she loved might now be dead? It was a hard thought. And one she would have to push out of her mind for now, at least until they were out of this and safe.

Theobald followed after Marcus they moved toward the tunnels to identify an appropriate spot to collapse the entrance. He would do whatever was in his power to save Saskia and the others. "We must move swiftly before the enemy can further advance into the cathedral... or whatever is left of the cathedral." Theobald noted the smoke was on the rise as they descended there were crashing sounds as it seems like the massive chandeliers were beginning to fall to the floor. Theobald was none the wiser regarding Quinn and Marcus, that being a detail that Saskia had left out. Yet he could tell Marcus was upset about more than just an attack, the way his nostrils seemed to flare, the color in his cheeks. Something else was wrong.

[Breggo13]

The second the screaming outside echoed in his ears, muffled by the ancient doors of the cathedral, Marcus Vale was in high alert, his eyes popping out of the small alcove for a second before he heard the fuse. Cover! was all he could mutter before hiding again, pressing Quinn against his chest and using his back as protection, the thick material of the hidden leather armour stopping the shattering splinters for hitting either of them although the blast pushed him forward, making his grumbled as he tried to keep them both up. His ears ringing, he stepped out, pulling out two of his knives as his eyes took in the carnage and carnage it was.

The rebels had packed enough explosives to leave nothing but the dragoniron hinges swinging in the wind, one of the chandeliers extinguished and the other dropped to the ground, the fire hungrily eating at the oil and the cloth from the bodies. And there were bodies - knocked out or killed, broken or impaled, noble and servant. The pale wolfish eyes scanned the scene for movement before turning back to Quinn.

“We have to go, now,” Marcus pulled at her, trying to shield her from the sight but it was impossible. Quinn’s blue eyes grew large and she gave a choked gasp as her eyes took in the unmoving shapes in fine livery of her friends and colleagues. For a second, she couldn’t move, stuck like a statue until Marcus’ hands landed on her cheeks, his features filling her view. “Quinn, darling, we need to go. If you want to help those who are still alive, those who are the real target, we need to move.”

“The children,” the words came unbidden to her lips, so soft that she wasn’t sure she said anything. The man frowned, his brows coming together.

“What?”

“The children - the boys. Your father, he thought it was a good idea for them to see. Mrs. James was mentioning it this morning,” Quinn’s eyes tried to look all around her before biting her lip, she hiked up her skirts and started running.

“Quinn, wait!” Marcus cursed as he took off after her, thankful that at least the girl was running away from the open doors. He knew his father would be at the wedding and coronation as was the duty of any able bodied noblemen but he hadn’t considered that the man would bring his wards. It was true that the tragedy unfolding around them was unexpected but of all the occasions to bring the children, of all the things for them to see. Marcus didn’t have time to think as rebels started pouring into the cathedral, weapons drawn and eyes focused on the three thrones on the pedestal. Each man sported a black and red band around their forearm, the sign of the rebellion. Without hesitation, they moved forth, cutting their way through those that got in their way, their victims crying out in pain. A few turned towards Marcus, meeting his gaze with cruelty.

“Flame!” Marcus cursed, his eyes narrowing and his senses expanding as he fully dived into the channel with his dragon, disregarding the throbbing pain that immediately hit his temple. There was a reason dragon riders didn’t fully embrace their bond - dragon power could not be used without consequences, slowly ripping the man appart the more they took and while some like Marcus build up tolerance bit by bit, it meant the backlash of the power would come later. Right now, the man didn’t care. In his subconscious, he felt the delicate female Sylphira raise her head in concern, snarling as she saw Barra take off. Pushing that away, Marcus slipped between the attackers, his knives slicing their throats as he dodged their swords, spitting away the drops of blood that ended up on his lips.

“Quinn?!” Marcus backed in the direction of his intendent, killing a few more attackers as he went, his reflexes becoming almost superhuman. He oriented himself on his secondary senses, moving towards his love through some invisible pull until he stood over her. Glancing back, he cursed - Quinn was on her knees, pale like the moon but desperately trying to roll over a body with a shattered skull, tears running uncontrollably down her cheeks. Even without seeing the face, Marcus knew exactly who it was.

“It’s okay, everything will be okay,” Quinn’s voice was gentle even as she tried to move his father’s lifeless body off - who? Marcus bit onto one of his knives, using one hand to roll the heavy body off two boys clinging onto each other, lips quivering and eyes large and scared. Without thinking, Quinn reached for them and they clung onto her, the girl placing kisses on their heads as she squeezed them. Behind them, from the direction of the door, Marcus could hear the flow of movements. “I’ve got you, everything will be alright. I have you.”

“Quinn, please,” Marcus’ voice sounded not his own as he turned to look at the men flooding in, determination in every movement. In the corner, a fire was starting to blaze. Bitting her lip, the woman slowly stood, taking each child by the hand before her eyes found the rogue’s. With a nod, the trio started towards the dias, Quinn acting as a buffer as they hit a mass of people rushing towards protection, gasping as some man pushed her and a loose elbow nicked her chin enough to bruise it. Behind them, Marcus was using his knives to stop the most aggressive ones, each blade finding its mark. It was a slow progress and a few times, the children faltered with their small legs but they kept going, their faces set. They didn’t yell or scream or cry, only gripping with all their might to Quinn’s small hands.

“Give them to me, quickly,” Marcus scooped up the boys, appearing beside Quinn with a wild smile. “I’m out of knives.” The blonde nodded, following the man before her as they moved through the last few dozen meters, her head turning to look behind her for a brief moment when it happened. She caught the movement before she registered what it could be, the man getting ready to throw a knife at Marcus’ back. Without thinking, Quinn moved as the blade flew gasping sharply as the metal cut through her dress and her skin. Marcus spun to face her but she just shook her head, using one arm to push him back towards the pedestal. Her breathe came out a bit rugged and the pain was slowly spreading from the intense first reaction to a constant throbbing sensation, one slightly alleviated when she pressed her hand against it. She didn’t register as the men talked, only getting her mind to focus enough to follow Marcus.

“Come on, this way,” Marcus pushed forward, Quinn stumbling after him and Theobald following along. They seemed to disappear into the darkness, Marcus able to see with his enhanced senses while Theobald always had the ability, leaving the young woman to use her free hand to feel the wall as she moved. The men were quiet as they moved forward, quick since there were only the three of them, Theobald helping Quinn when she stumbled. Eventually, they ended up near an entrance that looked weaker, Marcus setting the boys down. The space here was dimly illuminated, light shinning down the corridor. “We’ll be right there Quinn,” Marcus promised, kissing her forehead. He frowned as he tasted the cold sweat that had beaded up but the girl only smiled.

“We’ll be fine,” she promised, trying to get a smile on her face but unable to fully muster it. Standing on her toes, she gave him a quick kiss before taking Alexander’s small hand the boy grabbing his friend and both children quietly continuing down the corridor. As they disappeared, Theobald turned to the rogue but Marcus cut him off with a glare.

“Now’s not the time. The support beams are weak here and here,” he pointed out the two spots before crossing his arms. “We wait until Liam comes and collapse it. That will buy us some time.”

“And if he doesn’t come?” the prince raised an eyebrow making his companion scowl.

“You don’t know Liam - he will be here.”

“And so we wait.”

It seemed that minutes stretched out into endless time until finally, the faint sounds of footsteps echoed around the dark corridor. Frowning, Theobald raised his sword, Marcus standing behind him with his fists prepared to withhold anyone even if it meant being cut into ribbons. The tension seemed to make the air thick around them, their expressions grim and both relying on their senses. Step by step, the figure approached until finally, they could see the silver jacket stained red.

“Do it,” Liam’s voice echoed halfway down the corridor even as he moved closer. As the elf hesitated, the man growled. “Do it now!”

“Liam?” Marcus’ question was partially blocked out by the sound of metal chipping into stone, the walls shaking and debris falling down. Snarling, the rogue looked up at the shaking ceiling as Theobald yanked the weapon out of the wall, his face emotionless. “Wait, he needs to make it.”

“He gave an order,” the prince responded, his eyes hard. “He has a reason.” Before Marcus could respond, he swung the sword to the second weak spot, grunting as he leaned into the hit, the cracks seeming to race from the contact over the stone, debris starting to fall just as the blonde made a leap through it, grunting as he stretched out to fall on the other side, the tunnel collapsing faster and faster around them.

“Go!” The Earl breathed out, pushing himself up and thrusting Marcus before him as Theobald pulled out his sword and started after them, the trio racing as the hall of the old catacombs crumbled and fell around them, sharp rocks leaving a new gash on Liam’s cheek. The last few meters into the big hall, they raced through dirt and stone that blinded them, using their momentum to push through, landing in a heap of bodies in the safety of the large space as the tunnel that was just there disappeared from existence. Breathing hard, all three tried to regain their breathe.

“We bought some time but not much,” Liam managed, hanging his head low for a second, running a hand through his locks and causing a cloud of dirt to rise. “Four men against that mob…”

“I’m sorry,” Theobald responded gravely, the first to stand and offer his hand to the young general. “They were brave men.”

“Fuck, how could this even happen?” Marcus snarled, getting up on his own and dusting off his clothes. “What did I miss?”

“Betrayal?” the elf offered, pulling Liam up but the earl shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” his gaze was cold as ice. “For now, we need to decide what we must do. I need to find the emperor and S….her majesty, the empress.”

“I’ll come with you,” Theobald’s tone left no room for negotiation and with a curt nod, Liam agreed. Marcus shook his head.

“This section….I need to send for help. My pets know their way around these corridors like no one else. If we want to get this mass of people through, we will need them.”

“Do what you must - we won’t move until we agree on a course of action,” with that dismissal, the rogue disappeared into the thong of people who now seemed to turn their attention to the two men. Taking a deep breathe, Liam strode forward confidently, giving small reassurances to those who reached out, accepting the small thanks that came from those terrified, not pulling away as men and women reached out to touch him, to feel someone calm in the face of chaos, someone who had stayed and survived. The Lysian royal followed along quietly, his eyes observing every interaction with some interest even as he wanted to find his family. However, now was a time to show composure and strength - his own military upbringing taught him that the only way to subdue panic was to project calmness. Eventually, they made it to the small circle surrounding the imperial couple and the dowager.

“Your majesty,” Liam bowed to Saskia, stepping away as Theobald went to his sister, his eyes taking in her appearance in that brief moment and taking inventory of her appearance, assessing each visible injury and thanking the gods above that she was only minorly scraped and bruised. Allowing the Castavet siblings a moment of privacy, he turned to Emeric who was sitting beside Alistair, the emperor looking the same as before. “How are you Al? How is he?” he turned to the healer.

“Not good,” Emeric kept his voice down, wiping his brow with his forearm. “Aeliora has been feeding me her energy but I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like….it’s like a block. I patched up his wounds and disinfected them as best as I could but,” the redhead closed his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s like he’s not there in spirit.”

“You did good,” Liam sighed, squeezing the younger man’s shoulder before straightening and looking over the space. A small room was off to the right, an old space that was perfect for what he needed. Sighing, he approached the trio of royals, bowing to them in a short manner. “Your highnesses, I would like to request a private word with her majesty.”

It wasn’t a request so much as a necessity, a private conversation and a plan forward. Offering the woman his hand, he led her towards the room, allowing her to move in first before following, the pair seeming to naturally end up in the farthest corner where they couldn’t be seen. Checking that they weren’t followed, Liam finally let out a heavy sigh, leaning against the cold wall of the space, allowing himself a moment to finally breathe.

“You’re hurt,” he commented softly, not bothering to open his eyes nor add the usual formalities. For once, if there was a time to drop the facade of perfection, it was now. “I’ll ask Emeric to look at you before we leave. He has done all he can for Alistair at the moment - the emperor is stablized though whatever ailment he has, we cannot resolve it here.”

Opening his eyes, Liam allowed himself to take in the woman before him. Standing in the faint light that came from the entrance to the small room, she looked slightly shaken although she was holding strong, her composure forward and strong. The small cuts that had bled were mostly closed, the blood having dried in various designs on her porcelain skin. Being able to simply look at her, to see her before him seemed to losen yet another knot inside him - the emperor was alive and so was the empress. Most importantly, the couldn’t help feeling impressed with the young girl’s composure and obedience. She did what he asked, she didn’t argue and she took up the role that was needed. She stayed safe, making his job easier. At the thought of his job, he closed his eyes again, his own mask crumbling for a moment as his mind brought up the image of his four comrades that he left in the cathedral, fighting to buy him time to flee. A necessary sacrifice but one that hurt.

“They came for you, Saskia, you and Alistair,” Liam didn’t sugarcoat the words, speaking softly as he finally was able to focus, his gaze meeting hers. It wasn’t the time to grief or to allow emotions to take over - they could not afford it. The attack was still in full swing and even though the catacombs and the ancient foundation of the city was relatively safe, the breach of security was palpable. “If they see Alistair in his present state, they won’t stop - that will be a sign that the emperor is weak and one more attack, one more push will allow them to achieve their goals. I do not have enough men here that can protect you both, not when dragons cannot enter the city without restraint. Here, the dragon knights are incapacitated - they can either protect you as warriors or focus on keeping the beasts at bay. It’s a no win situation.”

“I can offer you the safety of Cliffheaven at least until we understand what has happened. I can keep you safe there,” he didn’t add the remainder of the phrase that hung between them. Let me keep you safe.

[Hannelorian]

Liam's arrival alongside Marcus and her brother was a welcome sight, she breathed out a deep sigh of relief and her eyes softened. Theobald was the first to approach and Saskia hugged him tightly. "Thank you. Crysos is safe." Saskia got out the two most important things, the first was her eternal gratitude for his efforts in protecting them all, and of course to let him know that for the moment, they remained an intact family. Saskia was so glad to see him. Theobald nodded and pressed his forehead to his sister's for a moment before letting her go. "I'm glad you are safe." He spoke softly and moved out of the way to allow Liam, who Theo had a newfound respect for, to take an audience with his sister. His sister the Empress, that still felt odd to him. He supposed he would need to get used to it.

The Empress looked at Liam when the two were alone, and as he began to speak she pressed a hand to his cheek and stepped closer to him. Her hands sort of moving him around, touching different spots on his body, she was listening but clearly inspecting the man for injuries. "Are you hurt? You don't seem too beat up. Thank the Gods." Saskia now looked up at Liam's face, he was covered in soot, muck and blood. "It's not your blood... right? Oh... and what of Rois? Her husband?" Saskia couldn't help but feel absolute relief, absolute comfort in knowing Liam was alive and well, for the most part.

Saskia's hands once again moving toward his face her finger tips tracing over the blood, almost following it to ensure there was no real wound. "I was afraid you would be lost." Saskia raised her hand before her face and for the first time she watched as her hand shook, finally in private even if just for a moment she could show her inner vulnerability. "Thank you... for stepping in and taking command. I am grateful." Saskia's voice trembled for a moment as a tear made it's way down her cheek carving a clean path through the soot. The Empress wrapped her arms around Liam and pulled him close to her, hugging him tightly, warmly and securely. "You did well, you make the nation proud." Saskia wanted to say he made her proud, his sacrifice for his country, he never questioned it, he fought, he did the right thing for the Empire. And in a moment of absolute weakness, Saskia stared into the man's eyes and she drew her face closer to hers and kissed his lips without a second thought but with all of the passion her tired body could muster. "I know, I shouldn't have done it. But let's leave that for later, shall we?"

Her arms dropped, wiping the tear away Saskia closed her eyes hard for a moment and brought herself back into focus and composure. "I know. I know that Alistair and I were the targets. And the fewer people that see Alistair, the better. He needs to be safe, so that he may recover... he is... broken, I don't know. It's like shock, but it isn't." Saskia looked to the ground and having taken a step back she bit her lower lip, her arms crossed.

"You're right, the dragons cannot be allowed into the city." They needed to move the capitol, but that was a problem for later. "The potential for... casualties is too high." Valadis was a densely packed city, the buildings were close together, even the most precise dragon would leave unprecedented destruction in its path. "Alistair and I will take refuge at Cliffheaven, it seems the safest course of action for the time being, though we cannot stay long. Just long enough to get the situation under control. To be seen is to appear strong in the face of crisis. But first and foremost, we need to get all of these people out of harm's way. The closer they are to us right now, the higher the chances are for further disaster and an even higher body count." Saskia looked at Liam with a seriousness that was unparalleled, now she was fully in her role as the Empress.

"Do you understand?" Saskia did not wait for confirmation. "What other bad news do you have for me before we go back out there?" Saskia asked knowing full well, many had died, and they wouldn't know just how many for some time.

[Breggo13]

“It’s mostly not,” somehow amidst the chaos of the moment, Liam found a soft smile gracing his features, something to reassure the young woman as her hands brushed against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. As she raised her hand before her face, the man took it, holding it tightly. “I’m alright, I swear. I’m not going to leave you like this, I promise..” his voice trailed off, not sure how to address her just now. Was she his empress, was she just Saskia? How willing was she to forget her marriage, the titles, the difference in circumstance and just be?

As Saskia wrapped her arms around him, he responded automatically, not pausing to think his actions through, his own arms pulling the woman close to him, trying to feel her presence with every fibre. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he felt until this moment, until his chin landed on the top of her head and he could inhale the faint remains of her perfume among the soot, dirt and muck. Even then, it seemed the best scent in the world, a calming presence that made Liam feel as though his sacrifices, the decisions he had made, were not for naught. He closed his eyes, simply letting himself be in that moment, his heartbeat matching Saskia’s as he held her close. It was a blissful moment that was gone all too soon as his mind focused on the fact that he was hugging his friend’s wife.

“I did what had to be done,” Liam’s voice was but a whisper as he looked down at her, gathering the courage to pull away and become professional. Whatever his emotions were, whatever Liam felt towards the young woman, he could not overstep what was between him and Alistair, could not overstep what was between him and the Empire. “I--”

Before he could finish the sentence, Liam felt Saskia shift, her lips connecting with his in a kiss that seemed to burn him all the way to his soul. It was raw, unpredictable, full of emotion and unbalancing. The man seemed to freeze, his eyes growing large for an instant before he sensed himself kissing back, hesitant at first but slowly growing with fevor. The kiss stretched out to feel both like a blink of an eye and eternity, the pair being consumed in the moment without a single thought in the worlds, without considering the consequences. As Saskia’s lips burned against his own, Liam couldn’t think of anything aside from her, his heart spreading up untill it sounded erratic, crazed, about to stop.

And as soon as it began, it ended, Saksia pushing away and asking him to lecture her later. He wouldn’t thought - looking at her, Liam wasn’t sure he would ever hold her impulsiveness against her. He knew how she was brought up and how she was forced to live up to someone else’s expectations, never allowed to do what her heart desired. And perhaps it was selfish to wish that she turned her back on everything that gave her strength, that gave her meaning but for once, Liam didn’t seem to care. A frown appeared on his forehead as she asked him to ignore what just happened, to just put it behind.

Could he do that? For years, Liam had been unable to feel, unable to allow himself to become vulnerable for a woman. In some ways, he had felt broken beyond repair but he never begrudged his fate. Anne has taught him a lesson that served him wel over the years - nobility did not have the luxury of love, not when it concerned ancient titles and lands. Nobility waited for no one and women were not free to risk their futures for a romance, no matter for great. Love had no place in his heart and for a long time, Liam was content. For a long time until the strange, forgotten pull of attraction, of curiosity and appreciation pulled at him once more when he met Saskia. He was not Alistair - he saw her strength right away. He saw her weaknesses and her mistakes as well as most but he could not ignore her silent power, her determination to do her best and that endeared her.

“I think he was struggling for a while and seeing the rebellion on such a day, that was the last drop,” Liam let her pull away, trying not to focus on the emptiness that immediately seemed to follow her retreat. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes revealing the exhaustion and sadness he felt inside. “It’s shock but you are right, he is broken. It will take Emeric time to figure out how to help him but…if I could swap place with him now, I would.”

“Cliffhaven will serve as a refuge for you both - we need time to let Alistair heal. I….know it is not ideal and it cannot be your home for long but we need to take you away. In Cliffhaven, we can protect you for however long it takes,” Liam cleared his throat, trying to even out the erratic beating of his heart. “Marcus will find his people and they will lead the nobles to Caelum Fortis. They will be safe as long as you and Alistair aren’t amongst them.”

“Bad news, your majesty?” the blonde sighed once again, the heaviness of the situation seeming to pin him to the floor. “The rebels were aiming for you but between the blast and the people they cut down in their way through the cathedral, I do not know how many innocents fell. Innocents and four noble knights who gave us time to escape. Furthermore, I will have to ask you to make a hard choice - your loyal subjects can make their way to Cliffhaven by horse and wagon but we can only take so many with us now. The dragons are strong but few can carry more than one extra person for the distance. You need to choose who will come with you now.”

Liam’s eyes held both compassion and determination, a resolve that showed he knew what he was asking of the young woman. Now was her moment to truly understand the immense weight of the crown - the first moment in the foreseeable future where she needed to chose who was under her protection and who needed to come on their own.

[Hannelorian]

The Empress heard the words of the Earl, at least four knights had likely perished simply to by the nobility and indeed a few other knights time to escape. Even a single death pained her, no matter how unavoidable it was. Those were lives sacrificed for her, for the Emperor, for the Empire itself. "Honorable men who will be mourned, when this has passed we will give them the memorial they deserve." Saskia said softly as she looked at Liam. She could see his exhaustion, she could see the sadness and anguish that he was holding back, and Saskia couldn't help but admire him. As awful as everything had been, Liam was a true General, a born leader, something the Empire needed.

"When we arrive, no one is be granted access to the Emperor. Myself, you and your men, that is all. Not your mother, not your sisters. None can be allowed to truly see him until he is recovered." The idea that Saskia was issuing commands to Liam was one that would have once made her uncomfortable, but with the Emperor out of commission she felt it her sworn duty to the people and that meant hiding their weaknesses. Every last one of them.

When Liam asked her to choose from amongst her own number who would come with her immediately the answer seemed obvious and rather simple. "Darling, this is not the hard choice." Saskia smiled softly as she nodded in acknowledgment of his request. "No one." The Empress was confident in her choice. "George has the Grevilles to keep her. Beatrix will be looked after by my brothers, even Crysos can defend himself. The Dowager will be just fine. As you suggest, it is safe, so long as we are not with them. I... am not with them. A few extra days won't matter much." Saskia shook her head as she wondered for a brief moment if she should have chosen differently. "The Crown must always win, Liam." Saskia took no personal satisfaction in that. It was not Saskia that must always come out on top, but the crown itself, the symbol, not the person.

"And of course, it is for the best that Carina end up in Valadis. As much as she might detest me, she respect the institution of Monarchy. She will do her part to keep everything in order. Crysos will be able to go home." Saskia let her arms drop to her sides for a moment before resting a hand on Liam's chest. "I am sorry, Liam. For your losses today." Her words were sincere, kind, dripping with the signature warmth that she had been known for in Lys. The kind Princess Royal had blossomed into a strong Empress. "We must be getting back, we can't stay here for long." Saskia wished she could have stayed in that moment with Liam.

But one thing she had achieved that day, she no longer had to wonder if she was the only one with feelings. The way he held her, the way he kissed her back whether he intended to or not. But that was an emotion for a safer time.

--

Beatrix's son, Joseph came rushing through the crowd of people to find his mother and cling to her. The Dowager Duchess' eyes widened as she fell to her knees and embraced the young boy. "Joseph!" She cried out as she felt the tears welling up in her eyes. The children having had returned with Liam and Theobald. "Praise be to Celebrimbor's mighty flames." Beatrix had never been so relieved in her life. And now she felt more empowered than ever to insist that her child never be removed from her. Or if he was brought away, that he never be allowed to return to Valadis under any circumstances. For now she was just relieved to have her child. Her beloved and beautiful baby boy. The one good thing that she ever did for the world, for herself, she created this magnificent and jovial little creature who had nothing but love in his heart.

[Breggo13]

“I understand your majesty,” Liam bowed his head, scolding his emotions back with whatever strength he had left. He felt broken, an exhaustio settling into the pit of his stomach, one that replaced the cold fury and adrenaline that had him going. Shaking his head, the icy gaze rose to meet Saskia with its usual strength and resilience. Once more, it wasn’t just a man standing before a young woman, vulnerable and able to show the emotions that plagued his heart. It was the Empire’s finest warrior, the lieutenant-general who knew how to make hard choices, give orders and carry the weight of decisions that would break someone less. Lieutenant General Rhyddrech never let emotions cloud his judgement.

“I will ensure that the emperor is not seen without your permission. It is your choice as to whom to bring or leave behind although I must warn you - Valadis will most likely be under siege for a time until the rebels are certain you have left. Leaving behind those that they know are close to you will risk them being exposed to attempted kidnapping or other means of swaying your hand. They will not care if its your brothers or your ladies.”

Whatever the young woman decided, Liam would support but he spoke the truth. In any skirmish, in any attack that was so precise and targeted, anyone close to the desired target became exposed to danger. He nodded as he listened to her words, agreeing that while George and Beatrix and even the two Lysian princes could have something befall them, Carina was unlikely to be in danger. In a strange way, the dowager’s public hate for her son and her now daughter-in-law would mean the rebels saw her as a potential ally if she was not already. He would invite her to visit his mother with Saskia’s blessing as pretext to remove her from Valadis but that could wait. His eyes dropped to her hand, soft on his stained and battered shirt exposed after his duvet was ripped open. At her words, he looked away.

“I thank you, your majesty,” the taste of blood, of loss and anger seemed to land on his tongue but he kept his voice even. “They knew what they signed up for. Some families think that having their kids become Dragon Knights is the noblest profession for those second sons and it is. What they fail to remember is that this prestige comes with huge sacrifices, often those we cannot predict. We all appreciate your kindness.”

He raised his hand, allowing her to move forward to the entrance, taking one final moment to compose himself. With his eyes closed, Liam silently spoke a prayer to Celembribor, asking for the fire lord to welcome his men into his halls. As each name grazed his lips, the blonde absently spun his signet ring around his finger. The last words left and he stood, his mind slowly pulling away from what had happened - now was not the time to grief. There were problems to solve and people to protect. With Alistair in his current state, there was no one else his men would look up to and he couldn’t agree more with Saskia - the crown had to win.

---

Quinn smiled softly as she watched Joseph run towards his mother, Beatrix wrapping her arms around the boy with a sob. It was a touching scene, one that momentarily drew her attention away from the pain that was making it hard to breathe. Cringing, she tried to get a good look at the wound, lifting her hand slightly only to gasp with pain and press it back down, trying to regain her breathe. Whatever it was, she wouldn’t be able to examine it on her own.

“Where’s Alistair?” Alexander’s soft voice brought the girl’s attention to the present, the little boy looking with some confusion at his friend, tiny hand still gripping Quinn’s free hand as though he was afraid to lose her. Trying not to whimper, the young woman lowered herself down to squat beside him.

“He’s…..he’s alright, I think,” there was no point in trying to hide the truth from the boy now. With his set brows and trembling lip, the child was on the verge of a breakdown, too stubborn to let his emotions out. “We can….we can go find him….if you’d like?”

At the boy’s nodd, Quinn straightened, her head spinning slightly and her hand tightening on Alexander’s as she caught her balance. Smiling slightly at him, the woman looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of someone familiar, her eyes eventually landing on her brother. Westley’s ashen face that caused his freckles to stand out expressed concern, his usual levity gone and replaced by worry. Biting her lip, Quinn started in that direction, trying to stay away from the men and women who were trying to stay calm, a few throwing glances at the pair as they moved but none bothering to stop them. The atmosphere currently surrounding the catacombs seemed to be one of anticipation, fear and despair. The calm before the storm.

“Did…did Uncle Vale die?” Alexander’s question made Quinn trip, wincing as her body responded with a flash of pain, cold sweat running down the back of her neck.

“He was protecting you and Joseph,” the blonde managed. “He was very brave.”

“He died protecting me,” Alexander didn’t look at her, his deep blue eyes trained to the ground. “Alistair never wanted anyone to know he was my friend because he thought someone would get hurt. And he was right.”

“Oh Alexander,” Quinn’s eyes filled with tear and she tried to blink them away so that the boy wouldn’t notice. “It was an accident! This could never be your fault.”

“If I wasn’t there, Uncle Vale would be alive. He wouldn’t have to sit in the back because we were kids and the ceremonial man said we were too little to sit up front,” his voice became softer and softer with every word. “Mama said I was bad luck and she was right. I hate this.”

“Your mother was…she was….” Quinn tried to keep her thoughts coherent but her head was starting to feel lighter and lighter, her body a combination of pain and lightness as though she was floating above the ground, unable to control her movements. She shook her head, trying to clear it but that only made it worse. Somewhere in front, she felt more than saw Westley’s intense gaze turn to her, his voice ripping through the air as he called her name but she couldn’t tell anymore. She stumbled and fell, Alexander falling with her and as her head ended up on the ground, her breathing ragged, Quinn wondered whether this was the end.

To the side, she could hear Alexander yell, the movement of bodies that first seemed to surround her and then Westley’s commanding voice pushing them back, strong arms scooping her up. As her head rolled against his shoulder, Quinn tried to form words, Alexander sobbing slightly as he grabbed at the ripped and dirtied hem of her dress, having to practically jog behind her brother. “Marcus…”

“What?” Westley frowned, not slowing his pace. Quinn took a ragged breathe, her eyes starting to roll back in her head.

“Don’t tell Marcus,” she whispered before losing consciousness.

[Hannelorian]

As Saskia and Liam slowly entered the common area, she smiled as she whispered to him. "When I'm through, we'll get our share of first sons, or hells, maybe even a woman." Saskia could have giggled if the situation hadn't been so dire. Then again, Saskia was not one to hide her personality, but now it seemed to be most respectful. "One last aside, General Rhydderch." Saskia opted to use his military title and last name, just in case one were to overhear her. "If we make any exception it is for the children, and children alone." Alexander and Joseph, she had almost forgotten, but Beatrix's screams lived in the back of her mind. If they could be whisked away more quickly, perhaps it would be for the best.

The fragile calm of the camp was upset as the young Alexander screamed and it sent Saskia, Westley and others running. Westley had managed to scoop her up muttering something about Marcus before she lost consciousness. Saskia felt compelled to step in at least quietly. "Remove the children." Saskia asked and George who by this point had escaped the Greville's at the hint of a child screaming. George quickly hurrying her way to Alexander, Beatrix already moving Joseph far from the commotion.

The situation with Quinn seemed grim, Saskia saw just how pale she was, the very color seemed to be fleeing her skin by the moment, she had likely lost a lot of blood. And then Saskia turned back to glance at Alexander, being lovingly restrained by George, held closely and at a distance. The Empress sighed, the boy was still a threat, one the Emperor ignored, but one she didn't see a need to do something about...yet. The pain in his eyes was abundant and screaming. This day would likely scar them for the rest of their lives, or at least the foreseeable future. In fact, for many present... today would primarily be a day of mourning, rather than the day of joy and celebration it should have been.

"General." Saskia finally turned to Liam. "Fetch Lord Vale... he should know. And... Emeric." Saskia wondered if Quinn would live or die. When had she been injured? How had it happened and why didn't she tell anyone she was hurt? That was Quinn, accomplish the task at hand before worrying over oneself. Slowly the Empress moved to follow behind Westley, knowing that in this moment he was focused on nothing else but his sister. His world could get a little bit smaller, all of theirs. Quinn had been so kind, so warm and friendly in a world where so few people could appreciate Saskia for who she was and what she had done. The Empress could only imagine what Marcus would be feeling, if he wasn't already.

Taking a step or two forward, the Empress felt paralyzed by indecision. She wanted to go to her, to hold her, at least until Marcus came. But Quinn couldn't seriously die? This couldn't be the end, could it? Saskia waited until Quinn was brought to a rest and standing beside her brother, she reached out and held onto her hand, standing as close as she could.

George was only looking to Beatrix a pained and silent exchange between the two women. Worrying seemed to be the spirit of the hour. The attack was psychological as well as physical, and no one wanted to acknowledge the truth, it was too soon to feel the pain. Beatrix quietly whispering something into the boy's ear, and he quickly ran off in pursuit of Lord Greville. The older man who would provide a shield for the boy as Beatrix quietly left to stand on the sidelines behind Saskia, even if she longed to run from all of it.

Theobald standing beside his brother leaned over quickly to Crysos to whisper, "Saskia's maid." And Crysos exchanged a knowing look then. They all seemingly acknowledged the elephant in the room. But there were countless nobles and others assembled. Everyone was now bearing witness to the great pain and personal suffering of the Dragon Knights, and the Imperial family. An oddly intimate thing, a deeply tragic thing.

[Breggo13]

The dark halls of the catacombs were full of stale air, a side effect of their abandonment eons ago. The stone walls and huge ceilings that once could accommodate full sized dragons were clouded in shadows that seemed to envelop everything they could touch. Cracks and grooves had formed in various places, roots or other vegetation that could thrive in these conditions pushing its way into the space against the structure’s will. Broken pieces of the ceiling and rocky foundation - in every sense of the word - were the definition of what remained of the old Valadis, the city that had been forgotten to give way to the politics. Where once a single street expanded to allow light and air, the capital had grown to suffocate the space into three separate streets with houses in between. And frankly, Marcus hated it.

Unlike most, he found solace in the ancient remains of the city that had been. While his favorite location remained the old Flight room in Caelum Fortis, the rogue could not deny how useful the catacombs, tunnels and abandoned infrastructure was for him and his informants. Working primarily with non-human exiles of society, the underground became their home, their method of moving quickly across the city with none being the wiser. The hidden knowledge and the proficiency with which his people navigated these halls always made Marcus smile, a trump card for a rainy day. And, if a rebel attack right after the empress’ coronation was not a rainy day, nothing else would be.

Striding silently through the halls, the rogue felt the darkness embrace him like an old friend, his eyes adjusting quickly so that he wasn’t afraid of getting lost or disappearing in a sink holl or trap. His enhanced senses stretched out, spreading out so that he could smell the rotting earth, hear the drip of water, taste the acidic staleness of the air. And yet, a smile spread onto his lips as his fingers slid across the stone walls, eventually hitting a small bump that made him freeze. Taking a second to find the release and steadying his breath, the man pushed his fingers into the wall, the springs and coils silent. Feeling the release of the tarp trigger, Marcus let his body respond on its own, rolling to the side as a volley of arrows smacked into the stone with sparks, their disappointed echo ringing down the corridor. Getting up to his feet, the rogue dusted off his clothes before straightening, only to find the thin sliver of a blade pressing up against his neck.

“What a pity, the master now becomes the hunted,” the sultry female laugh that followed made Marcus grin wolfishly, his eyes turning to take in the wild red hair and almond eyes as the woman slowly circled him. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, the man’s gaze following her motions as though hypnotized. “You know better than to come looking here, milord.”

“How else was I supposed to summon you, Vixen? Or that pack of mutts you run with who missed a bloody rebel rebellion on the day of the coronation?” Marcus’ voice dripped with feeling even as his predatory smile remained. “Did you all go deaf or something, busy spending unearned coin?”

“Turner would give over all the gold to me if I slit your pretty, little throat right here,” Vixen giggled, her lips ending up practically grazing Marcus’ ear and her taunt body pushing up against the man. “I wonder what your blood will taste like, hot and thick as it pours out of your veins.”

“Cut the charades, you are not a bloodsucking leech,” the rogue’s grinned grew, even as he shrugged. “With me gone, you’ll be hunted like the abominations people believe you are, one by one. The chase would be a thrill - imagine how many men would want to have their own pet fox.”

“They’d never catch me,” Vixen smirked, resting her chin on the man’s shoulder before pouting her lips. “It would be rather boring not having you around.”

“Get Ulrich - tell him I need five or six of his best to lead the nobles back to Caelum Fortis. I need them now and I will pay each one handsomely for their efforts,” glancing at the woman, Marcus chuckled. “You are one of his best, are you not?”

“Flatterer,” the knife disappeared from his skin even though the man felt a thin cut left behind, drops of blood streamig from where the blade nicked his skin. All the amusement seemed to be gone from Vixen’s features, as she grew eerie silent, the only sounds around them their breaths and the faint howling coming from one tunnel or another. With the walls providing ample acoustics for sound to bounce infinitely, there was no way to know if the howls were half a mile away or around the corner. “You brought nobles into our home?”

“I was a little busy to decide where they went,” Marcus crossed his arms on his chest, his expression becoming serious. “The sooner you lead them out, the less chances they stumble into something they shouldn’t know.”

“Oh, I just love the sound of dying noble screams in the morning as they bleed out in the traps,” Vixen grinned, revealing her canines. “They try to move in the wrong direction, they will meet a gruesome death and I cannot be held responsible.”

“Nor Shae or Ulrich I imagine,” Marcus rolled his eyes. “If they go missing here, they will come back to tear up these hallways brick by brick. Spare me your bravado and just do what I know you will do anyway. Gold is so much easier to obtain through my goodwill.”

“Fine but it better be worth it,” Vixen snarled, her eyes growing hard. “Risking our fucking lives for theirs - you’re one of us master, don’t act your bullshit nobleman card with me. And if you cheat me,” the foxy expression was back, mischief mixed with pure seduction. “I’ll be sure to make you work for my forgiveness.”

“Don’t flatter yourself Vixen - my compensation is always generous,” Marcus smirked cockily giving the redhead a mock bow. “Run along and get that alpha of yours. The cathedral dome - you know the one. 10 minutes.”

“Don’t miss me too much, master,” the laughter that followed her made the dragon knight wonder if his sanity was still in check. He preferred dealing with some of the older beasts, those that understood the dangers the Empire presented to them and relied on Marcus’ protection, those loyal to him as much as mutts and changeling beasts could be. Vixen was an enigma - she always knew more than she let on, more than her superiors knew, sniffing in places most would avoid. Her desire for games was in equal parts annoying and exciting, making the rogue’s own desire for a chase wake up, battling with restraint and composure. And the worst part? The bloody fox knew it.

As he turned to start back towards the room that currently housed the survivors of the bloody coranation - no pun intended - he could hear the howls of wolves and the distinct brayer of a fox echoing in his back, a barking yapping snarling conversation that he couldn’t understand. One, though, he was sure would turn in his favor. Whistling under his nose, he strode back, not hiding his scent, knowing that it was the fastest way for Ulrich and his brood to find him. His men would be better guides in these halls than he ever could be and their incentive to get the nobles out as soon as possible was not simply the gold he would pay them - the territorial creatures hated trespassers on their land. While he kept a short leash on the likes of Vixen, there would be no issues.

Marcus seemed to appear amongst the crowd seemingly from nowhere. One moment, there was tense silence in the air, the slightest whispers of the crowd transforming into the rustling of leaves and the next, there was a cacophony of voices as the minister seemed to emerge from the darkness. Voices that asked for information, reassurance, compensation. Hands tried to attract his attention, men and women pushing to get to him as though he was Calembribor himself even as all they wanted was to know what was happening, where was their friend and when could they finally return home.

“Milords, miladies, patience please,” Marcus raised his arms, signaling for the crowd to settle down. “I understand you’re panic and concerns but trust me, all will happen in due time. We will be on our way as soon as I had a word with their imperial majesties and -”

“Vale?” Julius’ exclaim cut Marcus’ voice off, making the older man frown as his companion rather forcefully elbowed his way to the front, his voice carrying over the crowd that surrounded the minister. “Marcus! Liam, I found him! He’s here! Marcus, come quick!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Marcus’ frowned, his eyes instantly scanning the area around them but he couldn’t see anything that would give rise to such concern. Julius looked pale which was saying alot for the perpetualy tanned Islander, his sea-green eyes full of pain and worry and his hair disheveled. “Why is Liam looking for me? Is it his majesty?”

“No,I--” Julius swallowed hard before setting his brows into a set line of determination. “It’s Quinn.”

The words barely left his lips before Marcus took off, racing between bodies and moving in whatever way that he needed to only to push himself forward faster, his heart racing. He hadn’t stopped to fully understand what Julius was saying or was about to add - the second he heard her name, his reality crumbled in the same way the old catacomb passage did less than half an hour ago. No, it was worse for while the tunnel was only one of many, there was absolutely no one on this world for him besides Quinn. Whatever was going on, he had to be there for her, he had to know she was safe.

He sensed his friends before he saw them, ramming into Radisson’s strong embrace and struggling like a maniac to pull away, snarling as his eyes locked onto Emeric sitting beside a body, the blonde braid on the floor a give away of who was his patient.

“Let me go, Greville or I will kill you here and now,” Marcus snarled, his eyes trying to catch a better view of the girl, not caring who was around them.

“Marcus, give Emeric space to work,” Radisson’s steady voice did nothing to sooth the rogue. To the side, Westley looked over darkly, arms crossed over his chest but he didn’t say anything, his face stone-like and ashen. “He’s doing everything he can.”

“What do you mean ‘everything he can’? What’s with her?”

“She took a knife for you, you bastard,” Westley’s voice was like a hard slap across the face, angry and accusatory without his usual energy or passion. And the way he looked at Marcus, the broken gaze of a disillusioned warrior, said more than anyone could. She took a knife meant for you, she gave you another chance but she is- the rogue refused to finish the sentence. Quinn was a fighter - she always had been - and she would pull through this injury however bad it was. Emeric would do all he could and Quinn’s body would do the rest.

“Let me go,” Marcus asked horsely, the fight leaving him. He had to hope that it would turn out alright because if he considered the alternative, by God, he was going to go mad. “Please Radisson, let go.”

“She’s a fighter, Marcus,” Liam’s heavy hand landed on the rogue’s shoulder and for the first time in recent memory, Marcus seemed unable to carry its weight, sinking slightly to that side as Radisson slowly let go. The blonde sighed, his pale gaze turning to Emeric. “He put her to sleep and is trying to stop the wound from getting infected or becoming worse but she lost alot of blood.”

“When?” the broken voice of the rogue made Radisson tighten his fists but Liam turned to meet Marcus’ eyes.

“Before you made it to the dias - she was bleeding since you found me and she didn’t tell anyone. She didn’t want you to worry.”

“Stupid girl,” the whisper was full of emotion - pain, regret, anger, helplessness, hope. Liam didn’t try to make it better. He simply squeezed the rogue’s shoulder before moving into the crowd, coming to speak quietly to the empress, his voice gentle and kind. Whatever their conversation was, the Leiutenant General was not hiding how dire the situation was.

“That’s it,” Emeric stood up, his legs shaking from exhaustion so much that Darius darted forward to catch the healer as he tripped. Waving him off, the redhead wiped sweat beads off his forehead, his green eyes hard. “I cleaned out the infection and patched her up. She lost more blood than I thought was possible but, Calembribor willing, she’ll pull through. For now, she needs to rest.”

“Can I see her?” all the usual bravado, the confidence seemed to have evaporated, leaving behind a husk of a man. Emeric shrugged.

“I am not the one to make that call - from a healer’s point of view, it’s even better if someone was to sit beside her and let me know if anything changes,” he sighed. “I need to sit down for a while, maybe take a nap.”

“I’ll sit with her,” Westley’s voice broke through, his hard gaze meeting Marcus’. “We’re not out of the woods yet Vale and none of us can take over from you here. If anything changes, I’ll get you.”

“I…,” Marcus gritted his teeth before giving a sharp exhale. “Fine but if I don’t see her before….If I never say goodbye, I won’t forgive you Falconer.”

“And I will never forget the reason she perished,” Westley snapped back before turning to sit down besider Quinn, now seemingly sleeping peacefully even as the bandage on her side glared with spots of red on the white gauze. Spitting blood from his mouth as he bit down hard to stop from swearing, Marcus spun on his heels, his ears picking up the distinct echoes of howls coming closer from the corridor.

[Hannelorian]

By the time Marcus had returned the situation had become dire. The Empress moved away the moment Emeric arrived in an effort to give him space to work on saving the young woman's life. She had gone ghostly pale and her breathing was growing ever shallower. Saskia simply stood aside with a hand covering her mouth, George beside her and Beatrix clinging to her son not far behind. All three women watching patiently and silently, offering their assorted prayers to Celebrimbor or Galadh, or both, whoever would listen to them and intervene to spare the girl her untimely death.

Liam and Raddison had already moved to intercept the panicked Marcus. The look on his face was one Saskia had never seen him carry before. It was the look of pain and absolute sorrow. The look of absolute fear, the fear of losing the one thing in the world he still managed to hold dear. And here too sat Westley, equally afraid, and suddenly at odds with one of his own brothers. To his mind, it seemed that his sister was attacked because of him. He had put her life in danger. She was stabbed as others attempted to get to their true target, the cunning knight and minister to the Emperor. A cabinet official would have been a big win for them.

"Poor girl." George said softly as she moved to lean against the Empress, she too looking for a degree of comfort from within her friend, though she would not find it. Not entirely at least. The sight of strangers that had followed Marcus back from the depths caught the Empresses' eye. The agents of the dark that Marcus employed to do his bidding. Beatrix knew it immediately, and now Saskia would see for herself the kinds of folk that Marcus kept at arm's length. Was it a necessary evil? Or was it careless? Either way it wasn't a question to be answered now.

"General Rhydderch, Lords of the Flight." Saskia began to address the group in particular, once more her voice seemed hard, or cold, it was determined. "While I have the greatest concern for Quinn, we cannot wait idly for the enemy to find us. It is in the best interest of all those assembled if we continue as quickly and swiftly as possible. We must press on." Saskia understood that in this moment there were many who would find this cold, unfeeling, or even selfish, but Saskia was anything but. The Emperor and his safety was her only concern, that and saving as many lives as possible, even if it meant it would further endanger Quinn and her already low chances for survival. The Empress would not tolerate the unnecessary additional loss of life, especially for one who seemed unlikely to survive. The Empire and the Emperor came first.

"Her Imperial Majesty is right." An unlikely voice of support coming from out of the shadows as Carina made herself known. Carina knew her place, at least in this group, and out of her own self interest, and that of her family, regardless of how she truly felt, they needed to go. "We need to leave. And I am compelled to remind you all, with my son indisposed, the Empress has command." Carina sighed softly and turned her gaze to the girl. "May her soul be commended to Celebrimbor." Carina already having written the girl off as a lost cause.

Saskia was thankful for the support and nodded in agreement. She gave a knowing look to her mother-in-law and subtle flash of a smile. It was a rare moment where the two were in agreement, regardless of the true nature of their motivations. Though George felt her heart drop as though suddenly all of her optimism were gone. Looking across the room she gazed at Raddison and wanted nothing more than to be in his warm embrace, but knew this wasn't the time. It was if now it were apparent to her that Quinn was dying, and that they were going to be forced to leave, even if Quinn wasn't stable enough to move. A part of her knew that Saskia was right, but it pained her to admit it.

Westley turned to look at the Empress, a pained look on his face and a tear or two streaming down his cheek. "We can't just leave her! She's my sister for Celebrimbor's sake!" A flash of anger across him, he was raw and still processing. The Empress moved slowly from his position and rested a hand on Westley's shoulder, squeezing reassuringly and kneeling down beside him. "We are going to do everything we can. Just as we have been." Saskia's hand moved to his upper arm and squeezed again. "It's just as they say, Quinn is a fighter and she is beloved by all of us. But you know the longer we stay here, the worse it looks for all of us, Quinn included." Westley looked at Saskia and nodded in a way that conveyed he truly understood, even if he hated it. Saskia's words were gentle and understanding, taking on a depth of emotion that hadn't been present when addressing the larger group. "Just be here with her right now. She needs you." Saskia said as she stood up.

Beatrix all the while had slipped away and went to find Marcus who had been cast aside by Westley. "Marcus..." She said softly as she approached him, and instinctively she pulled him into a hug even if he would fight her a bit. Beatrix just squeezed him, held on tighter for a good while before letting him go. "I can't begin to imagine what is going through your head right now." Beatrix wished she had ever loved anyone as much as Marcus loved Quinn. Her love for her son was a different kind of love, she had never really had romantic love.

"You need to be strong right now, for her." Beatrix offered the warmest smile she could, her voice dripping with sincerity and compassion. "And never mind Westley, he's just hurting, the same as you are." The Dowager Duchess wasn't accustomed to seeing Marcus acting like a shell of a human. His heart was slowly leaving his body. This was grief and this was fear. "You love her. And she loves you. More than anything she loves you. And none of this is your fault. None of it, Marcus." Beatrix wondered if this is what it was like to have a heart. She had to admit she was in actual pain to see Marcus so upset, and to know that such a lovely girl's life was about to end.

Gods they were screwed.